At Death's Door
by tuuli-p
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is not a killer. He's just a meek college student trying to pave a simple life, until all that gets disrupted by a trial that changes everything. If being incarcerated wasn't enough, his cell mate is Viktor Nikiforov, a ruthless and mysterious man with a long history of rape and murder.


"We find the defendant, Yuuri Katsuki, guilty of murder in the second degree."

He spoke in such an even tone, you would have thought he was reading the newspaper and not my damning sentence. Behind me I could hear shuffling sounds and sobbing, no doubt being produced by my mother and father. They always believed that I didn't do this. Too bad the jury didn't agree.

Judge Feltsman, a round looking man with hard features, nodded in agreement with this ruling. He too looked passive about it. Did no one care? My heart was racing, I had no idea how my legs were still supporting my weight. This was too much. All too aware this was not a dream, it was still hard to process his following words.

"Yuuri Katsuki will be sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole." Bang. Bang.

Walking out of the courtroom was a blur for me. The words were still digesting. Life in prison. No parole. Guilty. But I'm not guilty! I would have never killed Phichit's girlfriend. The whole disgusting narrative that I was jealous of their love made my stomach churn. And the jury actually believed it! To add insult to injury my best friend had testified against me.

I kept my hands held, I couldn't do much with them anyways with the way they were cuffed. I closed my eyes as the guards escorted me out. My instincts called for me to run. Wiggle my way out of these arms and run into the street, maybe let a car hit me. Yuuri Katsuki wasn't built for prison.

Yuuri Katsuki also wasn't a rebel. I didn't squirm. All I did was close my eyes. Snap, snap. Pictures, press. I wanted to cry. My mother had been crying. I think I heard a lower, more bellowing whimper behind me in that courtroom. Dad was crying too and I had never seen him cry my entire life. Was Phichit crying?

 _He only incriminated you because he's not guilty. They always blame the boyfriend. He didn't do it._

I didn't do it either.

It didn't matter who actually did it anymore, and who incriminated me didn't much matter either. As a matter of fact, my entire life didn't mean a thing any longer. No chance of parole. Guilty...

My life was thrown out.

I felt like I was underwater that whole walk out, and it certainly was the longest walk of my life from my stand out into the car that would take me off to my new dwelling. It was fortunate that I couldn't hear anything after my sentence was called for. Words were thick with curses in my name, accusations that didn't dance anywhere close to reality. According to Judge Feltsman and his misguided jury, it was now carved in stone that I was a passion-filled murderer. Jealous of my best friend's love, I ripped her life from her. But that simply wasn't true though!

It still didn't matter, I was already in the back of the transport vehicle. When did I get here? Just moments ago I was in the courtroom. And a moment before that I found Dok-mai's lifeless body, and just before that I had been out to a nice dinner with my family. My alibi would have been without fault if it wasn't for the fact that the place had no cameras to prove it. The jury saw me as little more than a liar.

My eyes fell back to my hands. I had been so sure that morning that this would be the last time I would involuntarily don these things. Hm, nevermind. After this experience, my previous fondness for these things was destroyed.

The car was too clean. My old car was always quite a bit of a mess, filled with old jackets and sometimes even old cups I forgot to remove from the last trips. It was gross at times, but it was much more homey than these spot-clean seats and impersonal interior. My prison cell would likely be no better.

I didn't pay attention to the words of the guards, eventually moving my gaze to the window. This would be one of the last times I would be able to see the outside world... Really? The last time I get to see the world and it's through barricaded windows. My eyes squinted up so I could get a better view of everything that passed by. A few trees, bright and free. Cars that were likely just as dirty as mine was, driving off to God-knows-where. Radios cranked up, people smiling without a care in the world.

Would I ever hear the radio again? Prison surely had radios. I knew nothing of prison, I had been released on bail the whole time between my trial so I never even got much of a taste for jail. I never thought I would need to study for it.

Everything up until this point had been an absolute blur, almost as if I had been put under some strange drug. A bad trip, and I hoped to wake but was fated to never recover from it.

More trees. Cars. Barricades. Guilty.

Anyone looking at me might have thought I had been very brave until right in that moment. My focus faded away from the things passing the vehicle and honed in on the metal bars that shielded my face from the world. These windows were tinted to keep the outside from having to face me, the subhuman murderer that world woke up one day and decided that I was to be.

Everything was dark in here.

That's when my shock faded almost entirely. Everything that had been built up around me to keep me from reacting to this mess fell down in a horrible instant, and that's when I became like every other scorned prisoner that ever sat in this uncomfortable seat.

With pleading eyes I looked up to a guard with a harsh jawline and large biceps. He was more my type than Dok-mai was! Why did anyone think I killed her out of jealousy? I was a gay man, what did I want to do with her?

"Sir, can you help me?" For the moment it made complete sense to me. Make a convincing case and argue my way out of this. Surely this burly guard knew it was a mistake that I had gotten here! I didn't have it in me.

His dark sunglasses seemed to glare at me first, before his lips had the chance to grimace. "What is it, Katsuki?"

Despite his helpful reply, it wasn't delivered in the most interested of voices. Just like in the courtroom, always being talked down on.

I swallowed. This was the only chance I had. "I'm not supposed to be here." I pleaded, as if he had never heard that before from a man being sent off for the rest of my life.

Those sunglasses beamed down on me for a moment. Without a word, he turned his head away from me and back to the door next to me. My heart dropped again. I failed. Just like in the courtroom. Guilty.

I folded up into myself once I realized there was no point in trying to fight any of this anymore. This guard was respectable, the type of guy I used to depend on. He kept what he thought to be the bad guy in his proper place far resigned from the public. If I was seriously guilty I would have been happy to meet his silence. But I wasn't.

Dok-mai was a really nice girl. We were friends. Whenever Phichit went to sleep mid-movie marathon, I would still be awake to make her a midnight snack. We'd talk about school and about our respective home countries, but we weren't very close. And I didn't love her like the jury thought I did. I wasn't jealous of Phichit, I didn't kill her because "I couldn't have her." I didn't want her to be anything more than a casual friend. There was no reason for her to die.

I had been so caught up in my own downfall that I often forgot Dok-mai had even died. When I first saw her on the floor I thought I would never get over the shock, but it passed and was replaced by the horror of my own life too being ripped from me.

The car ride was over. The world had already looked dull when I was passing by bright trees and vibrant colored cars, but now it seemed to fade to almost a black and white screen. White stone gravel, grey razor wire, pale building. Grey, black, white.

I suppose I was the only color left in the damn place, with this gaudy orange jumpsuit. That could be symbolic and I would probably think harder on it if I didn't feel so empty right then.

The guard who had shrugged me off guided me into the prison with an iron grip around my arm. Standing outside of the transport van, I realized how small I was in comparison to him. I was a tubby college student with an otherwise small stature, and here he was. His muscles had muscles it seemed, and his biceps probably weighed more than my entire body. Any notion of escape was erased by his stature alone, and that was not to mention the high fences, men with guns, and razor wire.

Lazily I observed my grim surroundings. It was still around noon, so the sun was high up and there wasn't a single cloud up in the sky. The world was otherwise cheerful. Back at the apartment, birds were probably chirping since there was a tree butting up against the back window that was perfect for birds to find homes in. Phichit was probably cleaning out the remnants of my room and looking for a new roommate already. With a day like this, lots of progress was to be made if you weren't clad in prison garb. I didn't get to look at the scene long. Within a blink I was inside, confined in heartless linoleum and brick.

This hallway was much larger than the car, yet I had never felt more claustrophobic in my entire life. It began to feel like I was playing a timed video game on a level in which the walls were closing in on the main character, threatening to crush him if he didn't complete the objective. Except no objective could get me out of this place. I had no extra lives, and no checkpoints to return to. This was prison, this was it.

I was processed swiftly, to my surprise. They already had my fingerprints on file from when I had been put in jail before my trial. They frisked their hands around me again, checking for any weapons. The touch made me shiver. I was twenty three and still a virgin, being touched by anyone just made me feel weird. Not aroused, but such closeness was not routine for me. My handcuffs were removed, a few questions were asked, and I was whisked away to my new home with a bag of necessities held in a clear bag over my right shoulder.

A guard naturally escorted me. I was a felon in their eyes, of course they wouldn't let me walk alone.

I didn't want to talk, but this wasn't the same stoic guard from before. This guy was still bulky, but had much gentler features. A little bit older, a little less dismissive. A lot more talkative.

"So, you thought you wouldn't get caught, right?" He teased, casting me an amused look. Never before had I wanted to punch a prison worker, but I guess there was a first for everything. Two minutes in this place and I was already more violent than I was when I came in. This place really did mess you up... But why did he have to be so condescending? I was actually innocent.

I just shrugged. "I'm here now." When I had attempted to tell the last one about my presence here being a mistake, I was dismissed. There was no reason to try to tell the truth anymore. Just be objective.

A nod, coupled with an even larger smile. "You think you're a real hard-ass, using few words to seem all mysterious-like. Lemme tell you, that ain't gonna work a moment in the cell. Especially not with the guy you're rooming with."

I raised an eyebrow, confused. "What about him?"

Chuckling. He had an annoying voice, becoming more and more irritating the more he spoke to me. I wanted to hurry up and get to my cell so I could get this guy off my back, regardless of who my cell mate was.

"Viktor Nikiforov." He chimed in a singsongy voice, like this wasn't the end of my free life he was dealing with. "You'll find out more about him from the other prisoners. But let's just say that you'll get more punishment than you've been assigned, Katsuki."

His name alone sounded pretty intimidating. It reminded me of some stereotypical Russian criminal mastermind from a cheap spy movie, always working hard to thwart the effort of the hero. Probably a murderer. Which was horrific, considering I wasn't actually a murderer and had not a lick of experience conversing with such truly devious individuals.

I kept my apparently "hard-ass" attitude up, and just nodded. Talking about it would just make my anxiety spike. Fortunately I took my meds this morning, but even that was incapable of numbing the scare of incarceration. I knew prisons had a designated time for medicine to be taken, and I was grateful for that. Without a doubt, it would be even more of a necessity than it had already been. Ideally I wouldn't have an anxiety attack next to a genuine convicted murderer.

The guard, who I never caught the name of, babbled on incessantly on the trek to my cell. It was better for me to not listen. Without doubt he was smearing my name, joking about my murderous nature that didn't actually exist. I got scared to kill a spider on the wall because I didn't want to see the mess. How could I ever kill a human in the way Dok-mai had been killed?

"Here. You can go down to the common area once you pack all that up. Viktor will let you know what bunk you can sleep on, and I'd suggest you listen to where he tells you to sleep. He's not a guy you go pissing off for fun, unless you want to die." Dying didn't seem like a horrible option, but being stabbed by a cheap prison shank and being left to suffer didn't seem attractive either. I wouldn't piss him off intentionally. Hopefully I wouldn't accidentally set him off either. How silly of me, I haven't even met him yet but I feared him like the devil himself all over the hype of a guard who wanted me to be scared.

Silly as it was, I still planned to adhere to it. The name alone brought chills.

He stood outside of my cell as I quickly unpacked my things. I always seemed to be in a hurry ever since I walked in. Rushed processing, rushed walk over, rushed unpacking. Why was I moving so swiftly? Nothing mattered anymore, and time mattered the least. I had the rest of my life to do all these things.

It probably had something to do with the size of the authority over me. He was much larger than me. He could crush me. I didn't want to keep him waiting and upset him enough to insult me beyond just simple words.

Everything was stuffed in a gray bin. Why was everything so damn gray here? I stood up again, nodding to the guard. "I'm unpacked."

"Unpacked?" He snorted, "You make it sound like this is a vacation. You've got a lot in store, Katsuki. A whole life of it."

I swallowed and nodded again. He spoke as if I didn't know of my meek place in prison. But I knew all too well that someone truly innocent could never fare well in such confined spaces, riddled with those less likely to be falsely accused than I.

Was there any real proof to that idea though? If the justice system was incompetent enough to pin a murder on me, who was to say that anyone in this prison was legitimately guilty of their charge? Every single body here could be rotting away in the name of someone else's crime. I could be safe here.

For a moment I could almost convince myself this was true until I exited my new cell and peered over the brightly colored rails to examine the common area below me.

A sea of orange suits, topped by many shades of hair. They ranged from vibrant colors of the younger inmates to dull whites of those who had likely been here a very long time. Men old enough to be my grandfather muddled about, playing cards on the bland-looking, circular tables.

They all shared one thing, though their ages varied greatly. Even the otherwise baby-faced individuals had this distinctive harsh look. One that I was able to see all the way from floors above, a look that I knew I didn't have in me at all.

I turned to the correctional officer, not wanting to keep him waiting for me. Today was not the day for me to deal with someone's smart mouth.

"Let's get you down with the rest of the pack." He gestured down, as if he didn't already know I had been gawking at the lot. It was evident he wanted me to be on edge. He didn't have to play with me like this to succeed in that though, the prospect of being here alone was enough to keep me on my toes.

Again, I was escorted down the painted stairs all the way back down to the common area. Walking down I made sure to keep my gaze locked with the stair below me for a number of reasons. I didn't want to fall around these guys and I had to watch watch my step. With my appearance, I figured I looked weak enough without giving any obvious signs. The stairs also happened to be one of the few colorful things in this place as it sported a tacky looking blue, the paint chipping in some places. Most of all I just didn't want to face what was before me so looking below was the only option I had.

Sooner than I would have liked, I found that the tacky blue disappeared from under me to be replaced by more drab, colorless floor. Chatter filled the air.

"This is where I leave you, Katsuki. Don't cause any trouble out there." I was given a quick warning before he walked off, and I was alone for the first time since my conviction only hours ago.

It felt like I heard the word guilty for the first time only ten minutes ago, but I knew more time must have passed since we had been able to drive all the way from the courthouse to the prison. Though I don't remember zoning out, I must have. Maybe I even fell asleep on the way over without realizing I had done so. If that was the case, I was upset with my actions. My last chance to view the world out a window that wasn't barred was ripped away by something as petty as sleep.

Suddenly I felt as if there were holes being bored into me, and when I look up to examine what I assumed to be an imaginary source I discovered that every eye in the compound was locked with me.

Involuntarily I gulped and I just hope my Adam's apple didn't bob too much to make that obvious. Weakness probably wasn't a good thing in this place.

In pedestrian society I had barely grasped how I was to handle myself around people. From observing my surroundings for all twenty-three years of my life I was able to put out a version of me that was socially acceptable. But prison culture was a whole new animal, I had no idea how I was supposed to hold myself anymore. What was I supposed to do now, introduce myself formally to these guys.

Mentally I denied that notion based on the glare some of the men playing cards cast my way.

We were at a standstill, the entire compound and I. Just simply staring at one another, with no words exchanged until someone broke in with an enthused, "Hey, fresh meat!"

Frantically I searched the compound for the source of the sound. The sound of "fresh meat" didn't sound very inviting, no matter how chipper the tone had been that rang out the greeting.

My eyes met a man pushing through the sea of jumpsuits, seeming to have no care for who he pushed by. How was he so confident to brush shoulders with such intimidating men? It was clear he wasn't one of the larger inmates either, for I couldn't spot his head until he poked out from a row of prisoners to come and grant me a more formal meeting.

He actually didn't look scary. Most of these men seemed to be the thing of nightmares, but the one approaching me looked a lot more like a child than some hardened criminal. Dark brown hair that fell to just below his ears, bright eyes to match. If I didn't see him clothed in his prison clothes, I would have just assumed he was some happy-go-lucky teen with a decent future ahead of him. But considering he was sharing the same unit as I, a supposed murderer, I knew that wasn't true.

He strode on up to me, confident. "Hey, what's your name?"

I swallowed. Giving my name to a criminal didn't seem like a sound decision. Then again, I was stuck here for the rest of my life. Not socializing for all those years would be dismally boring.

Plus, like I mentioned before, he looked so vibrant! It was easier to give my name to him than anyone else. The room was suddenly not so silent now that someone had approached me, which made me feel more safe giving out my name. I guess prisoners couldn't be distracted by shiny new things for long as the conversation roared up again.

"My name is Yuuri Katsuki." I answered flatly.

He nodded. "Yuuri, cool. My name's Leo. Nice to met ya, welcome to your new home and stuff. I'm sure Mr. C gave you the rundown earlier."

"Mr. C?"

Another nod from Leo. "Yep yep. He's the talkative guy who showed you your cell. His full name is Caraway, but that name sounds pretentious so we just call em' Mr. C."

"I never caught his name, I didn't really wanna hear what he had to say." I spoke in a mutter.

A sympathetic look fell from those pretty coffee-colored eyes. "Rough first day, hm? Ever been locked up before?"

I shook my head, deciding to be honest. There was no point in trying to pretend like I was used to this sort of life. I could use a friend. Leo was a prisoner and his trustworthiness was questionable, but having a companion would do me good rather than trying to figure it out all by myself. He seemed willing enough to aid me.

"This is my first time too, I normally didn't do bad stuff. But I've been here a few years now," He confessed, "I was in the youth unit from fifteen until I turned eighteen, and I'm nineteen now. I'm in for awhile."

"What are you in for?" I mused, figuring that was an appropriate ice-breaker type question in these parts.

His eyes widened. "You can't just ask that! If you had asked anyone else but me that, you woulda just got beat man. Be careful with your words."

Note to self: don't ask questions ever. Questions are dangerous here. Of course people don't wanna share their lives! Prisoners are secretive for good reason. I cringed at myself for ever thinking that was actually a good move.

Leo just chuckled, patting me on my shoulder. "It's okay. I'll do my best to make sure you don't get too messed up. You don't seem super creepy like some of these dudes." He was bold enough to gesture to the crowd behind us with that statement.

The teenager was right about that much. Maybe he knew that I was innocent even though he didn't know my story. The thought made me smile a little bit.

Leo climbed up a chair and took a seat on the edge of an empty table, crossing his arms as he looked me over. He looked comfortable sitting like that, as if this bland place was somehow homey to him. I suppose after four years in, I might be suited to my surroundings too. But the thought of being accustomed to this place was very hard to imagine for me.

"Here's some rules." He started out, giving me a sort of mock entrance ceremony to the prison. "There's a lot of race gangs. Don't get involved in them, they're dangerous and won't do any favor for your sentencing," The way he spoke about race gangs was serious, but he also sounded bemused, as if they were a pedestrian annoyance that he simply had to deal with. "And by don't get involved, I mean don't even talk to them, not just don't join. They'll start stuff with you quicker than you'll realize and then you'll be in a real mess. It's easy to spot them, they always hang out in the same spaces during rec. They'll probably approach you, so just politely decline. Don't be a dick about it or you'll wind up on their shit list."

It was a lot of information at once, so I nodded to show I understood.

"Good. Don't take anything that doesn't belong to you, and never snitch. Don't even borrow things from people, they'll hold it over your head. Don't try to get any prison tats to be cool unless you wanna get thrown in the hole for awhile. Or ya know, if getting hepatitis seems fun go ahead." Leo chuckled, "Don't piss of the guards either, they'll be a pain in your ass or they'll work with ya depending on how you treat them. One more thing, don't piss of Viktor."

Cocking my head, I asked for confirmation of what I feared. "Viktor Nikiforov?"

Another nod. "Yep. He's real bad news. I'd rather piss off a race gang than piss him off. Granted it's better if you piss off neither one."

My legs felt a little less strong than they had moments before, so I quickly took a seat next to Leo. Not on top of the table like him, that seemed too rebellious for a place like this. Just in the seat...

"What's wrong?"

"He's my cell mate."

I looked up to Leo to gauge his reaction. After all, this could be a good thing right? If I didn't make him angry perhaps Viktor would protect me. A silly idea to hold onto, but I had to have some hope.

I had hoped he would talk me through it with the calm rationale he seemed to have, but he didn't.

"Well, I guess you're kind of fucked then. Literally." The teen muttered.

"Literally? What do you mean?" I implored.

A sigh. He uncrossed his arms, leaning back further on the table to examine the ceiling. "You probably remember all the fucking stupid 'don't drop the soap in prison' jokes that people make on the outside, right? Yeah. He's the last guy you wanna drop it around."

"So he's a rapist-"

"Ssh! Keep your voice down about that. Yeah, yeah, yeah. He rapes people. Particularly cell mates. Do you have to be so goddamn loud about it though?" He groaned, slipping down from his perch on top of the table to take the empty seat next to me. Eyes darted left and right, scanning the area. No one was particularly interested in us anymore.

"Look. You can't just talk about the shit that people do in here, even if it's wrong. The officers could hear and that would throw Viktor in solitary." His once cheerful and boisterous tone had become a meek whisper, all at the mention of my cell mate to be.

Confusion hit me, and I followed his whisper. Quiet, Yuuri. Quiet. "But wouldn't it be good if he was in solitary? That way he couldn't hurt anyone."

"Yeah, you're right. For however long they keep him in solitary, he couldn't hurt anyone but himself if he felt like it. But once he was out? He's got connections, he could fine out who snitched on him. And then you'd feel a lot worse than just raped." He gave me the most serious of looks. I knew that he meant. Though it was hard to imagine, there was a fate worse than being raped.

I swallowed. "He'd... Kill?"

"It's actually kinda funny that you sound so hesitant to say that." The inmate shrugged, voice still very low. "It's kind of regular for people to hurt each other and kill one another in this place. But being killed by some bonehead in a race gang and being killed by Viktor Nikiforov are two very different things."

Again, I understood what he meant without it being stated explicitly. It seemed like I was picking up on the nuances of prison speech pretty quick, and I'm not sure if that is a good thing or not. "So, the prison guards have no idea he's raping and killing people?"

"Nope, not at all. Or if they do know they don't tell the higher ups since they're afraid of him too." Even the correctional officers were wrapped around this man's finger. How sick! He was invincible in here. I wished I could feel so confident in these walls too, but I didn't have it in me to rape and kill.

I was still digesting it all and didn't respond for a moment, giving Leo the chance to continue. "If you wanna see him, he's the silver-haired guy sitting at the back table by himself. He's drawing, like he always is. Don't talk to him and don't stare. Just casually glance back."

"I don't wanna accidentally look too long. I'll see him when I see him." While the direction was nice of Leo to offer, I was way too petrified of this man to even chance angering him. Even though my life was wasted here, I wasn't fond of the idea of having someone else violently murdering me to escape it.

"Good choice!" He beamed again, shifting immediately from his serious tone back to his more vibrant default. "You might not actually get killed here after all."

There was another silence, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. Leo seemed to be a legitimate ally for me. Offering me advice that seemed to carry merit, making sure I didn't speak out of line. It would have been nice to be in the cell with him and not this mysterious monster that I was caged with.

"You missed mealtime, we got night lock up in a few minutes." He slid off of his chair, standing up and stretching. "You should probably get up there before Viktor. You don't wanna surprise him anymore than you already are, he doesn't like surprises."

"Won't it be a surprise just to see another guy in his room though?"

"Yeah, but it's better than getting settled in and having someone who isn't a guard barge in." Leo pointed out. "I'll walk you there so you don't simmer too much on it and scare yourself any more than you already are."

I cracked a small smile. "Thanks."

Up those gaudy stairs yet again, metal clanging with every step we took. I didn't feel any better going up these stairs than I had felt coming down. In fact, despite having found someone I could almost consider my companion, I felt worse. Viktor Nikiforov...

"Here you are bud. I'll pray for your asshole." Leo chuckled, but went solemn quickly. He could change moods on a dime. Maybe that's how he got here in the first place. From his sunny side, you would have never guessed how downright serious he could be. "But seriously, be careful. If something happens, don't tell the guards. You can always tell me though. Good luck..."

I nodded, matching the sudden grim air. "Yeah, I'll be careful. You be careful too, ok?"

"I'll be fine. I get along with my cell mate... Uh, we get along really well." He scratched the back of his head, averting his eyes away from mine. There seemed to be more to what he was saying then, but I had no place to pry after all the help he had offered me today.

Without proper goodbyes, we dismissed one another as I retired to my cell and he walked off to retire to his.

My cell was still empty. There was still a few minutes until we would be forced back to our cells. My legs felt tired, but I don't think it was from physical exhaustion. Who knew that mental exhaustion could tax the body just as much? As much as I wanted to take a seat on one of those mattresses, Mr. C's words didn't leave me. Let Viktor pick the bunk.

Awkwardly I stood still at the corner of the room, staring at the strong-looking door at the front of the cell. Without thinking of it, I took another step back from that door. He wasn't even here yet but my nerves were alive with all these dangerous prospects.

It felt like days before he got there, but it felt far too soon at the same time.

He stepped in casually, not expecting me. Not looking at me. In his arm he cradled a few large-looking papers.

Then his eyes met me.

Viktor Nikiforov looked just as intimidating as the name implied. He was taller than me. Not much, but every inch he had on me felt more like a foot when coupled with his horrific aura. Silver hair, cut surprisingly stylish. You would have guessed he got that cut at a nice salon outside of these walls, but I had a strong feeling that wasn't true. Pale skin, strong form, and stunningly blue eyes.

I didn't look at his eyes long and forced myself to look at his feet instead. There was no point in acting strong.

A short pause followed, but he cut it with his thick accent. "What are you doing here?"

Any social finesse I ever held crumbled, and I couldn't fight the stuttering. "I-I'm your new cell mate."

"Cell mate? Interesting." He mused. I didn't dare look up from his feet, but I knew what he was doing. Seizing me up, looking all over me with those beautiful eyes. I felt naked.

Did I just say his eyes were beautiful? Must be the stress of the situation. I wasn't thinking properly.

My mouth felt dry. I swallowed, hoping it wouldn't sound too loud. Despite this hope, it sounded off loudly. I spoke up to distract him from that obvious sign of fear, but my voice was meek as ever. "W-what bunk do you want me to take? I'll take either one. I'm not picky. Whatever you want."

"Aren't you a complacent one? Quit staring at the floor. You can have the bottom bunk. Whatever you heard about me isn't true, chill out." He muttered, setting down his stack of papers on the small table stuffed in the corner of the cell.

Bottom bunk, nice. I liked that idea more. If I fell off the bed I would be less prone to fall to my death. But I didn't remove my sight from the floor and Viktor didn't like that much.

"I said look up." He commanded, as if it was routine for him to go around bossing people around and get exactly what he wanted. Which I supposed was true based on how Leo talked about him.

I did my best to shake out my fear by shaking my head, forcing myself to look up at Viktor. "Sorry. It's my first day here, I'm kind of out of it."

"Good for you." He spoke while carrying a bored expression, something I didn't expect out of someone who was likely going to rape me. Wouldn't he be getting more of a kick of playing with me if that was his intent? Maybe Leo had been wrong. Maybe it was a different Viktor Nikiforov who sat alone and drew during his spare time. I didn't feel relieved just yet, but I was slowly gaining more hope.

He didn't say much else, so I crawled under the top bunk and laid down on my new bed. It wasn't nearly as comfy as the one I had at my home, and that was saying something. The mattress I had at home was cheap and bought from a thrift shop, and shown with a questionable stain. It was kind of gross.

I'd give everything to sleep on it just one more time.

I settled in as best as I could. The correctional officers did their rounds, flicking off the lights in one go and ensuring we were locked up tight. Viktor had resigned to his bed as well, silently granting me a hope that I was safe for the night. It seemed like I would have to approach this day by day and hope for the best. If I was able to do that I like spend the rest of my life as safe as I could, free from as much pain as I could avoid and-

Squeak. Squeak. Pat pat pat.

The sound of someone descending from their spot on the top bunk above me had never been more apparent in my entire life.

I clutched the edges of my sheets, searching the darkness. Before laying down I had managed to slip off my glasses in order to get a proper night of sleep, so it was even harder to peer through the dark well. Not like I needed sight to understand what was going on once I felt the covers forcefully ripped up. A rush of cool hit my body. I swallowed, spotting the shadowy outline of my cell mate. He seemed even taller here.

The mattress produced more eerie sounds as he slipped in beneath the covers with me. I scooted away, trying to play this off as a normal occurrence. Maybe he was cold and was seeking worth via my body heat. But I knew that couldn't be true. He was a rapist.

My muscles were tense and my knuckles were tight from holding onto those sheets. The sheets were a plain white and made of uncomfortable, itchy material. Not the ideal place to loose my virginity. Not a comfy place to face a rape. But was there ever a good place to face such a horror? I was being silly to think there ever was, but in my fear my mind produced the most nonsensical thoughts. Anything to distract me from the hot breath that suddenly beat at my neck, anything to remove the fear of having my wrist suddenly gripped. But it was useless, it didn't stop me from gasping.

The bed was warm with the heat of his presence, but the air was bitter and chilly. I scooted further away, up against the cold wall, telling myself I could escape. He just gripped tighter, boring his long fingers into the soft skin of my wrist.

His breath hit my face, choking me with the scent of his too-powerful mouthwash. Mint would never feel the same after this, draining my force to fight. I felt suffocated by it.

"What's your name?" Viktor demanded in a quiet, yet threatening tone. He was too calm. It was clearly routine for him to go around and demand things. He was the King of this compound. I was just another slave, another mistress to keep around and use. I felt like a melted puddle, useless. He controlled me.

"Yuuri Katsuki." I answered in a monotone, doing my best to both stay quiet and not seem afraid. He wouldn't like it if I squirmed, and this was already hard enough.

There was an uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch out for hours. My eyes had adjusted further to the lack of light, and I was able to make out a few features in his face. As always his eyes seems to be luminescent, cutting through this night and bringing up my level of anxiety with their intensity.

Guard's footsteps, squishy and loud. It seemed to me, when all else was silent, that they were wearing clown shoes with all the noise they made. I tried to focus on that. Not the eyes. Not the heavy breathing. Not the silence.

"... Yuuri?" He croaked.

I nodded quickly. "Yes. Yuuri Katsuki."

My hand was still gripped, but quickly I felt the strength in the hand dissipate. Through the cover of the dark, I thought I could make out a change of expression. His lips seem to morph into a new position, and his eyes seemed to take on a whole new shine. But with the haze of my own exhaustion coupled with the night, I was unsure what this expression had evolved into. If I was less wise, I might have mistaken the tone in his voice for fear when he spoke next.

"Goodnight Yuuri. See you in the morning."

And without another word or another touch, I was left alone in my bed for the rest of the night.


End file.
